


Defence Against the Dark Arts | Old Habits

by bottseveryflavorbeans



Series: Seven Shades of Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergent, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry, Confident Draco Malfoy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Flustered Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), Pining, Post Battle of Hogwarts, Post Hogwarts, Professor Harry Potter, Secret Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26198260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottseveryflavorbeans/pseuds/bottseveryflavorbeans
Summary: Harry Potter lives a simple life. He quit Auror training to become the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts and he loves it. He loves being an uncle to Rose, Hugo, Victoire, and Teddy. His only complaint—he is the eternal bachelor, unable to find anyone he wants to settle down with. To be honest, he isn’t really looking all that hard.That is until Draco Malfoy is taken on as Madam Pomfrey’s apprentice bringing with him memories that Harry would rather not think about…like that night Draco Malfoy seduced him on the Quidditch Pitch eighth year and never called.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Series: Seven Shades of Magic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900732
Comments: 33
Kudos: 326
Collections: Seven Shades of Drarry





	Defence Against the Dark Arts | Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Magic anthology](/series/1900732), the third in a series of collaborative projects within the [Seven Shades of Drarry](/collections/Seven_Shades_of_Drarry) collective.
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/2Qx1l1Y); seven songs for each of the seven fics included in the collection.

* * *

“I didn’t get the Hogwarts post,” Hermione told me. I asked if she was joking. Her frown told me she wasn’t. “That’s not all, either,” she continued, leaning over the table so she could whisper to me. Baby Hugo made a gurgling noise from her lap, spittle dribbling down his chin. Hermione absent-mindedly wiped it away with a napkin. “The Healer who got the spot is Malfoy.”

My mouth hung open for so long a gnat flew inside, making me cough. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I hadn’t seen him since school. Well, I’d seen him around at things like that charity dinner at the Ministry last year, but it was from afar. He’d looked posh in his expensive dress robes and had an attractive bloke on his arm. I’d watched them—old habits die hard, I guess—but only until my champagne flute was empty, then I made excuses to my table and Floo’d home feeling bad for some indiscernible reason.

“Merlin, seriously?” I asked when the shock wore off. I’d known it was a possibility that someone else could get the spot at Hogwarts, but I figured Madame Pomfrey would have picked Hermione over the other candidates without hesitation. I hadn’t really prepared for her to pick someone else, especially not Draco Malfoy. 

Hermione looked over her shoulder at the rest of the Weasley clan as they played tag in the field behind the Burrow. Ginny and Luna were still on their holiday, but the rest chased after Rose, whose chubby toddler feet kept giving out on her. Victoire seemed to be on a mission to take down George specifically, ignoring the others. There were happy shrieks and laughter all around them as the summer sun set behind the hills, washing the night in a blue-gray twilight and lowering the temperature a good ten degrees. 

Hugo made himself busy with slapping his open palms on the wooden picnic table. Charlie and I built it together last summer so everyone could fit at the same table. Hugo occasionally looked up at his mother and cooed, and anytime he did, Hermione’s face went from serious to love-struck. She was currently kissing the top of his strawberry-blonde head, waiting for me to get my wits about me again. 

A weird feeling settled in my stomach. Hermione wasn’t done with the bad news. “So, uh, if you didn’t get the Hogwarts post, where are you doing your Resident Semester?”

Hermione scrunched her nose, busying herself with tucking and re-tucking a flyaway hair behind her ear. “Well, that’s the thing. I’m kind of going to do my Resident Semester abroad. In America. New York, actually.”

“Wow. New York.” I looked down at the baby in her lap. He had a napkin in one hand and was using the other to tear bits of paper off and toss them onto the table. He seemed to find it hilarious because each time the paper floated down, he giggled. 

“Ron and the kids are coming with me,” she blurted out, almost like if she didn’t get it out she would combust right there on the bench seat. A weight settled in my heart. A whole term without Ron, Hermione, and the kids. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been separated for that long. The thought made me feel like I was floating down the Thames, unable to swim to shore.

At the mention of his name, Ron stopped dead in his tracks. He’d been pursuing Rose, who looked back at her dad and said something in toddler-speak that I took to mean ‘hey, why’d you stop?’ and then Ron looked over at me and Hermione sitting at the table. He smiled a sheepish smile, then tore after Rose. She ran, toppled over in the dirt, picked herself up and ran some more. 

“Are you upset?” Hermione asked, reaching across the table to place her hand on top of mine. 

I took a steadying breath. “No, of course not. You can’t help that Malfoy got picked for the Hogwarts post. I’d have loved to see you every day at work, and I’m not thrilled that you guys will be gone till after Christmas, but that’s what a Portkey is for, right?”

Hermione seemed relieved. She let Hugo take her pointer fingers in his chubby little hands. “I’m bummed I won’t see you every day at work, too, but the spot I got is actually pretty amazing. It’s under the training of Healer Krishnamurthy in Brooklyn. He does a lot with MACUSA and the Aurors there. Some of the stuff he does has changed Healing practices. I’m…excited.”

“I’m happy for you, ‘Mione,” I told her, and it was the truth, but it was also a lie. I’d already felt like an outsider in the Weasley clan—not through any fault of theirs, but with everyone married and starting to have children…I felt out of place. Even Ginny was in a long-term relationship with Luna; they might not be married yet, but it was on the horizon. 

That just left me, myself, and I. Whatever the male version of a spinster was…all I needed was a hoard of cats, a pink terry cloth robe, an affinity for being crotchety, and I’d be set. I guessed an orange fuzzy robe was just as good as a pink one, so one down, two to go. Yay me. 

* * *

“Healer Malfoy is _so_ hot,” a fifth-year girl, Marcy Holbrook, squealed as she entered my classroom. I had my back to the students, writing up the day’s lesson on the board. Good thing, too, because I was sure my face had scrunched up into a grimace. It’d been the same thing all day. All the students were in a tizzy over Madam Pomfrey’s new assistant and his dreamy smoke-gray eyes. 

Her friend, Abdul Jacobs, made a guttural sound and said, “I almost fainted when I saw him in the hall this morning. He looks amazing in those robes.”

There were more people trickling into the classroom, all of them weighing in on whether Healer Malfoy worked out or if he just looked like _that_. Even the students who were usually quiet had something to say about Malfoy. 

_Ignore them_ , I told myself and counted to ten before turning around. I smiled out at my class and said, “I hope everyone is ready to practice those spells from summer reading.”

I’d decided the first lesson would be on Jinxes, covering Anti-Jinxes and Counter-Jinxes. Letting them practice the spells in class was both my favourite thing and my worst nightmare wrapped into one neat little package, just like the burritos at that stand outside the Ministry. Inevitably, someone would mess up the spell, resulting in a visit to Madam Pomfrey. And usually, that didn’t even register on my list of things to avoid since the only way to learn was to do, but with Malfoy in there…I didn’t want him thinking I was an incompetent professor. And no, I didn’t want to think about why that mattered to me, thank you very much.

A hand shot up. It was Marcy. She looked like she was about to burst out of her seat and rocket away into the sky in a very Hermione-like fashion. “Yes, Miss Holbrook?”

She looked over at Abdul, and he gave her an encouraging nod. “Is it, well, is it true you were in the same year as Healer Malfoy?”

I clenched my jaw shut tight, asked Merlin to give me strength, and said, “Yes, that’s true.” I’d managed to avoid Malfoy and all Malfoy-related things over the last week. He hadn’t been scheduled to arrive until the first day of the term, and I skipped breakfast to keep up my Malfoy-avoidance streak. It worked great—until my first class. 

Marcy beamed at me. “So, what was he like…back then? Are the stories true? Did he really turn the tide of the war?”

 _Technically_. “He made it possible for us to win the war, yes.” 

Abdul elbowed Marcy, and she squealed. “Were… _are_ you two…friends? I read in Rita Skeeter’s book that you were. She said you didn’t always get along, but that when you all came back to redo your seventh year, you two became friends.” She wanted to know, and by the looks on each of the other students' faces, she wasn't the only one. 

How to answer that? I could say no, but then the Hogwarts rumour mill would run non-stop and eventually my simple ‘no’ would have morphed into ‘Harry Potter hates Draco Malfoy, pass it on’; I’d seen it happen plenty of times. ‘Yes’ didn’t seem right either. Sure, we’d all come back to finish up school together, and sure, Malfoy hadn’t been as bothersome as he used to be, but I’d hardly call what we had ‘friendship’. More like a truce. We weren’t technically friends, but we weren’t _not_ friends either. ‘Yes,’ was safer than saying we tolerated each other, wasn’t it?

“Yes,” I said, settling on a one-word answer in hopes that the rumour mill couldn’t do too much damage with that one.

* * *

One hour and two knocked-over bookcases later, class let out and I’d managed to keep all of my students out of the Infirmary. My stomach growled fiercely at me, angry that I’d ignored breakfast, so I sucked it up and headed towards the Great Hall for lunch. 

When I’d first started teaching at Hogwarts, a year after quitting Auror training, most people had been shocked, fascinated, and more than a little confused. Walking down the corridors consisted of being bombarded from all directions with questions about my choice— _Why would the Wizarding World’s Saviour quit being an Auror to teach?—_ and pleas for my photograph or signature. Now, I was old news, and I preferred it that way. The only students who still got star-struck were the first years, and that wore off after the first few weeks when they realised I was just another boring professor who made them do six-inches on their first day of class. 

A group of giggling students walked behind me whispering about Malfoy and how they wondered if I would sit with him in the Great Hall for lunch since we were ‘such good friends.’ News travels fast at Hogwarts. I picked up my pace and decided to nip down to the kitchen and beg food off the house-elves rather than sit at the professors’ table and have everyone watching me and Malfoy. 

Whatever solace I’d enjoyed over the last few years was as good as gone now. The topic of Draco Malfoy inevitably led to the topic of Harry Potter, and vice versa. Our pasts were so inexorably entwined that it would be impossible to talk about one of us without mentioning the other, so I guessed I shouldn’t be so shocked that people were paying attention to me again. But I was. Malfoy and his dumb, stupid, attractive face had mucked up my peaceful existence at Hogwarts. Old habits really do die hard. 

* * *

Two weeks into the term and I’d still managed to avoid talking to Malfoy face to face. I took my meals early, in my office, or not at all. The house-elves kept me fed. I’d only sent three students to the Infirmary from injuries sustained during Knockback Jinx training. Most of the gossip about Malfoy had died off. Outside of a few ‘Circe, did you see his hair today’ or ‘I love the way he says Skele-Gro’ comments, I could almost pretend he didn’t exist. The idea that I might be able to avoid him all term was starting to look more possible with each passing day. 

My eyes were dry from staring at parchments for the last hour. Half my students didn’t meet the page length and the other half couldn’t seem to decide on the proper spelling of ‘definitely.’ One student had even gone so far as to avoid using it in the whole paper, which I found sort of impressive. 

Hermione’s mammoth of a letter sat on my desk off to the side. I’d read it once through already, feeling sorry for myself as I did. Apparently New York was great, the kids were great, everything was great. Except me. I wasn’t great. She wrote five pages on Healer Krishnamurthy and her first week under his tutelage that bored me to tears but also made me miss the hell out of her. Tucked into the folds of the letter was a photo of the kids and Ron in front of the Statue of Liberty. Hugo, in true baby fashion, oscillated between laughing and crying. Rose looked about as serious as any toddler could look, holding her father’s hand. 

What the hell? Why not read it again to double-check that I’d addressed everything from her letter in my response. I could use another healthy dose of self-pity while I spent my Saturday alone in my office. At the very least, I could check off another thing on the ‘spinster list.’ Bathrobe, check. Crotchety mood, check. Maybe I should see if McGonagall knew any stray cats that needed a home. Might as well start collecting them now. 

The Floo in my room roared to life, green flames forming into the face of Ginny Weasley, my ex-girlfriend turned best friend. “Harry?”

I put Hermione and Ron’s letter to the side, then pulled my ottoman to sit in front of the fire. “Hey, Gin. How’s it going? Are you and Luna back?”

“Yeah, just back yesterday. Want to get drinks with us later and catch up?”

I hesitated. I loved Ginny and Luna, but they were yet another happy couple that only served to remind me that I was somehow the only one still single. “I have some papers to grade, but if I get done early, definitely,” I lied through my teeth. My plan for the night included one of Pansy Parkinson’s latest romance novels and some mint tea. I’d finished grading and had just been sitting at my desk finishing up my letter. Technically, I was totally free. Is it bad relationship karma to lie to friends? Merlin, I hope not. 

“Okay, well, either way, we will be at the Three Broomsticks at five. Call me if you’re going to come by. We’d love to see you.”

“Will do. Give Luna my love.”

The Floo call ended, and I turned back to the letter. Merlin, I missed them. I missed Hugo and Rose. I even missed having to clean baby spittle off every piece of clothing I owned. Maybe I _should_ get drinks. It would be good to get off the grounds for a bit, clear my head. Plus, I wasn’t totally sure about that karma thing and it didn’t seem like a good idea to risk it. Just in case. 

My letter seemed short compared to the one they’d sent, but I had managed to cover pretty much everything, even my Malfoy-avoiding. I tucked it into an envelope and sealed it with some wax, before heading out of my room, which was attached to my office and inside of the DADA classroom on the second floor. 

I peeked out into the corridor to make sure it was clear. Infantile, maybe, but better safe than sorry. I didn’t want to ruin my perfect Malfoy-avoidance streak now. I didn’t see anyone, so I tucked the letter into my robe pocket and speed-walked to the West Tower to send off the letter that Fletcher, my tawny little Barn Owl, was too tiny to carry to the Trans-Atlantic Post Office in the Ministry. 

The walk to the Owlery passed in silence. It seemed no one was wasting their Saturday indoors when summer weather still lingered outside. Maybe I really would meet them at the Three Broomsticks for a drink. It was too nice a day to waste it in my office feeling sorry for myself. 

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice anyone else in the Owlery when I entered and went straight for the biggest owl I could see. And because the fates are cruel, I knocked hands with none other than Draco Malfoy as I tried to tie on my letter.

“Oh,” Malfoy breathed out, pulling his hand back. “I apologise. I didn’t—” He turned to see it was me and laughed. “Harry Potter, as I live and breathe. What are you up to?”

“Just sending Ron and Hermione a letter.” I held up my letter as if it wasn’t obvious that’s why I was in the Owlery. I mentally slapped my palm to my forehead. 

A smile spread across his face that made my heart flutter. “That’s quite a letter. Go right ahead. Mine’s not so terribly thick. I can use a smaller owl.” Malfoy stepped back, giving me room to tie my letter on the owl. He smirked at me the entire time I attached the letter, his eyes trailing up and down the length of my body in an appraising manner. Heat curled down my spine, reminding me exactly why I spent so much time avoiding Malfoy. Barely a minute in his presence and my body begged for his touch.

What is that American Muggles always say? Think about baseball and cold showers? Ha, laughable. Let me be the first to say that while that might work when faced with attractive people on the other side of the Atlantic, it did not work when one was near Draco Malfoy. 

I did my best to ignore him, tying my letter to the owl with trembling fingers. Relax, Harry, you’re not some doe-eyed heroine in one of Parkinson’s stories. You are perfectly capable of tying a letter to an owl without trembling. When I was done, the owl took off and I was about ready to do exactly the same thing, but Malfoy spoke. “I was starting to think everyone was collectively hallucinating you were a professor here. You’re more scarce than Peeves these days.”

“Just busy. The beginning of the year is always like that.”

“Is it, indeed?”

“Yes.”

“You’re too busy to take meals? I don’t think I’ve even seen you come into the Great Hall to grab tea.”

“I make my own tea. It’s better than what they have in the hall. I get it special.” Merlin, what was I saying? I didn’t get special tea. Crap, now I needed to get special tea. Who would know about special tea? Luna would. Meeting up with the girls seemed like more of a necessity as the day went on. And that whole karma thing was starting to feel more likely by the moment. 

Malfoy looked at me like he knew I was full of it. “Color me impressed.”

“Well, see you around,” I told him.

“Will I?” He asked, a fox-like grin spread across his face. “How about you make me some of your special tea, say tomorrow night? We can catch up. It’s been ages.”

“Right, sure, sounds like a date— _plan_ ,” I said, backing away to the safety of the stone spiral stairs, deciding I definitely needed that drink. I’d give Ginny a call to confirm as soon as I was out from under the curious smoke-gray eyes of Draco Malfoy.

* * *

“Where do you get special tea from?” I asked Luna as I slid into the booth across from her and Ginny. They’d already ordered drinks, a whisky for Gin, a Butterbeer for Luna, and a scotch neat for me. 

“Hullo to you, too,” Ginny said, grinning. 

I shook my head and took a steadying breath. “Hullo Gin, Luna. How was your trip? You both have a lovely sun-kissed colour. So, special tea? Any ideas?”

“I get mine from a shop in Diagon. It’s called Harney’s Lovely ‘Lixers. Tell Harney you want the Double Dare flavour,” Luna told me. She took a sip of Butterbeer. “And thank you, my skin does feel like it’s been kissed by the sun. You have to come with us next time we go to Greece, Harry. You’d love the beaches there.”

Ginny sat back in the booth and draped an arm around Luna’s shoulders. “She’s right. Water like you wouldn't believe.” 

“Not to mention all the deliciously attractive people,” Luna said in a conspiratorial tone. 

Ginny laughed. “That, too.”

I had to smile. Ginny and Luna had what some would consider an unconventional relationship, at least among the wizarding community who tended to be about ten years behind the rest of the world when it came to sexual orientations and relationship dynamics. They were open with their affection and enjoyed inviting people into their bed, but when it came down to it, they were in love with only each other. 

“Why do you need special tea?” Ginny asked. 

“I might have said I had special tea in front of Malfoy and then he invited himself to try said special tea.” Ginny laughed. Luna smirked. They sucked. “It’s not funny.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at me. “It is a bit.”

“I’d forgotten he got the Hogwarts post.” Luna took a long pull from her bottle. “Is he really as fit as those photos they took at the Ministry event made him look? I don’t think I’ve seen him in four years with all the travelling we do.”

I hated that I knew exactly what photo she meant. It was of him and that bloke, looking perfect and like they’d stepped off the cover of one of Parkinson’s novels. It wasn’t enough that Malfoy was born rich; no, he also had to have cheekbones that you could cut diamonds on and hair that never looked out of place. Talk about God giving with both hands.

Ginny snorted. “That’s a yes.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I told her, but we all knew my silence had been as good as a declaration. “I did not say yes, guys.”

Luna nudged me under the table with the toe of her sandal. “So, you have a tea date with a very fit Malfoy then? I bet eighteen-year-old you is doing cartwheels. Didn’t you have a thing for him back then?”

My face flushed. “No. What? No. That’s ridiculous. We were barely…No.”

“That was very convincing. Wasn’t it?” Luna’s face remained impassive, but I saw the twinkle of mischief in her eye. 

Ginny bit her bottom lip, no doubt holding back laughter. “I’ve never been more convinced of anything in my life.”

I groaned and dropped my head to rest in my hands. “It’s _not_ a date. He was just curious about the tea and wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

Ginny and Luna were laughing again, so I kicked them both in the shin under the table. Both of them yelped. When I looked up, Ginny was still smirking. “Catch up, eh? Is that what they are calling it these days?”

I gave her my best death glare. “It’s just tea. Plus, I’m not Malfoy’s type. He’s not interested like that. And anyway, he is busy dating all of Europe. He’s got a new boyfriend every month, which is not my style, so I’m not even interested, okay? It’s just two old schoolmates who haven’t seen each other in a while having tea and catching up.”

“Not his type?” Ginny made a confused face and looked at Luna. “Harry, you have seen yourself, right? You’re everyone’s type.”

“And you are totally interested,” Luna said. “You never get this flustered unless you’re into someone.”

“Look, I just know for a fact he isn’t interested, so it doesn’t matter if I am. Trust me. It’s just tea.”

Luna winked and said, “I hear he’s great in bed. When was the last time you slept with someone? A year ago?”

“No, it was New Years, wasn’t it?” Ginny tilted her head, remembering. “The girl with the red sequin dress at Dean’s office party.”

“Oh, right,” Luna purred. “She had a great arse.”

Ginny waggled her eyebrows. “Malfoy’s got a better arse, I bet.”

“Oh, definitely, arse that you wanna sink your teeth into.”

“Guys!” I exclaimed and felt a blush creep up my neck. So sue me, maybe I did know why it had bothered me that Malfoy had a date to that event. And maybe I had spent more than a few hours looking at the picture of the two of them and being jealous. And fine, so I was avoiding him because, as it happened, in eighth year Malfoy seduced me on the Quidditch pitch. He stole my virginity, then never called. And since he proceeded to fuck anything with a pulse once school let out, I knew I’d just been one of the many. 

No one knew about it. I’d been too embarrassed, and now I was going to have to buy special tea, sit across from Malfoy when he looked like a wet dream, and pretend I wasn’t still mad about being rejected. 

* * *

Merlin, help me. I had the special tea brewing. It smelled like everything good about summer and when I’d asked Harney why it was called Double Dare, he’d laughed and said ‘because I double dare you not to get addicted to it.’ That made me a little nervous since I wasn’t sure how serious he was about getting addicted to the tea, but what did I expect from a man who came highly recommended by Luna? She had a knack for collecting offbeat people. 

My office looked as tidy as it ever would: my desk was clear of all papers, the books were all back on their shelves, and Fletcher was in his cage sleeping. I’d transfigured my rocking chair and ottoman into two chairs and placed them facing one another in front of the fireplace. The fire cover was in place for privacy; I didn’t need anyone calling in the middle of my tea date with Malfoy. 

Merlin, now _I_ was calling it a date. It wasn’t a date, I reminded myself. Tea in my office didn’t count as a date, and anyway, Malfoy had fucked me and then ignored me. He obviously wasn’t interested. I paced the length of my office, stopped to look out the window and saw the sun hanging low on the horizon, splashing the sky in deep oranges and pinks. I swallowed hard and looked down at my outfit. I had started out with my professor's robe on, then thought it would be weird if Malfoy came to what amounted to my home and I was wearing a uniform on a Sunday evening, so I’d scrapped that and tried on everything else I owned. Eventually, I settled on a loose pair of khakis and a green t-shirt. Casual. Not date attire at all. 

The knock on my door startled me so much I actually jumped. Calm down, Harry; it’s just tea, and anyway, you don’t care all that much about Malfoy. So he gave you the most earth-shattering fuck of your life and then pretended like he hadn’t ruined you for every other person on the planet. You’re totally over it. 

Firm reminder in place, I went to the door to let Malfoy inside. 

Of course, he looked good. Circe’s tits. Did he own anything that looked bad on him? Currently, Malfoy wore a white linen dress shirt with the top few buttons undone paired with pale blue khakis. It took everything in me to avoid looking him up and down. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Smells delicious,” Malfoy said, stepping around me and into the office. “Is that the _special_ tea?” He walked over to the kettle which was steaming on the small table next to the fireplace. 

“Yes, do you take sugar?” I asked, motioning for him to take a seat. He nodded, so I busied myself pouring the aromatic Double Dare tea into two cups. I mentally gulped, hoping Harney had been kidding about getting addicted and dropped two cubes of sugar into mine, then asked, “How many for you?”

“Two is plenty.” He wasn’t looking at me, but at the mantle of my fireplace where I’d arranged all my framed photos. There were some that Sirius had given me of my parents, some from Hagrid, and the rest were ones I’d taken myself. Molly joked that I’d gone photo crazy after Hogwarts, and she was right, but I didn’t ever want to miss a memory. 

“Those are lovely photos. Especially the ones of the children. Do you get around to see Teddy often now that he and Andromeda moved to Germany?”

I sighed. “Not as often as I’d like. He’s getting so big. Have you seen him?”

“A month ago.” 

I handed Malfoy his cup of tea and sat across from him. I’d made sure to place the chairs far enough away that there was no accidental leg touching or footsies, but just in case, I tucked my legs close to the chair. “So, how are you enjoying being under Madam Pomfrey’s tutelage?”

Malfoy smiled at me over the rim of his cup. “Still calling her Madam Pomfrey?”

“Old habits,” I said and thought I was getting pretty tired of all my old habits. “I still call the Headmistress, Professor.”

“Oh, Merlin, me too,” Malfoy said after a sip. His eyebrow arched in fascination. “That is very good tea.”

“Well, it’s _special_ ,” I said. I still hadn’t tasted mine and had no idea what to expect, but he didn’t need to know that. My first sip felt like drinking down warm sunshine, the second was like sitting in a field with the breeze rustling the grass at my feet. Involuntarily, my eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Too hot?” Malfoy inquired politely, but I heard the hint of suspicion in his tone. 

“A bit,” I lied. My mouth felt like a summer day. Merlin, Harney wasn’t kidding. I could see myself getting addicted to this tea. 

“So, how have classes been?”

I _hmm’d_ , took a sip, and said, “Fine. Just fine.”

“That’s splendid.” Malfoy took another sip of his tea, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste. 

I wondered if it was the same for everyone. Was he tasting summertime like me, or was it different? I wanted to ask, but asking might make it seem like I had no idea what the tea should or shouldn't taste like, thus ruining the lie that I’d had this special tea before. 

“Weather’s lovely,” Malfoy said looking out the window at the waning sunlight as the sun set behind the treeline. “Do you think it will keep up all the way into October?”

“Maybe.” This was altogether too polite a conversation. What was Malfoy’s angle? He’d seduced me and then tossed me aside, and now he was here making small talk about the weather? 

Malfoy took another sip, watching me, and I felt a bit like a bug under a magnifying glass. “I hope it does. I rather prefer warmer weather. There’s just something so life-affirming about summer heat.” He paused to lick his bottom lip. “Don’t you agree?”

I choked on my tea. “Right, yeah.” He’d seduced me after a hot summer evening of me teaching him the Patronus charm. I knew how life-affirming summer heat could be.

Malfoy placed his cup down on the table next to the kettle and leant forwards in his chair. “I find it odd to be back at Hogwarts on the other side of things. Did you ever feel that way? I keep expecting Filch to yell at me to get back to the dorms if I’m out late at night.”

“Are we really doing this?” 

Malfoy gave me a ‘whatever do you mean?’ look and asked, “Doing what?”

I placed my cup down on the table next to his. “Small talk?”

That earned me a grin and shit, if it wasn’t the kind of smile that made me hot all over, like, down to my toes. I had to look away in order to keep myself steady. 

Very innocently, Malfoy asked, “Isn’t that what people do over tea?”

He had me there. Most people did, in fact, make small talk over tea. I’d just done it last week with Neville and Susan. “Well, yes, but—“

Another blazing hot grin spread across his face. That same smile that had me on my back in the grass begging him for more. “Did you have a different topic in mind?”

 _How about how you rejected me_ , my brain shouted trying to be heard over my libido which was screaming about how it would be nice to have Malfoy touch me again and how it didn’t have to mean anything. “Well, no.”

“Then I don’t see why two old school mates shouldn’t catch up with some small talk after not speaking for a long while.”

“I guess.” I took a steadying breath and told him all about my first year and the adjustment period. I guess we were doing small talk now. Fine by me. I wasn’t even the least bit turned on. 

Yeah, right. 

* * *

“Hurry! Professor Potter, come quick!” Abdul shouted from the far end of the classroom. He sounded panicked. 

I adjusted Olivia Wadsworth’s wand so she had a better handle on the motion needed to cast the Shield Charm and jogged the length of the practice room to see Abdul standing over Marcy. He’d tossed his wand to the side when I arrived, seemingly afraid of it. His Shield Charm must have been too powerful. It knocked Marcy back so hard that she was bleeding from her nose and sounded like she was in pain when she took a breath.

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose, Marcy,” Abdul was saying. He knelt down next to his friend and took her hand. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Marcy tried to talk but it came out garbled. I suspect one of her ribs had broken and punctured her lung. Shit. “Abdul, I am going to levitate Marcy to the Infirmary, okay?”

Abdul nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

I didn’t feel like arguing. Besides, Marcy needed Skele-Gro and a healing potion as soon as possible. The rest of the class huddled nearby to watch as I levitated Marcy in front of me. There were a few hushed comments about the blood. They all shuffled out of the way when I moved for the door. 

“All of you are to report to the Library for the remainder of the period. Go over the proper spell techniques. Madam Pince will tell me who doesn’t show up,” I called to the class as I headed out the door with Marcy hovering in front of me and Abdul still clutching her hand, refusing to let go. 

* * *

Heading to the Infirmary brought back all kinds of memories for me. I could almost taste the bitter Skele-Gro on my tongue from the time Lockhart vanished all the bones in my arm. Almost every memory of this place gave me phantom aches, both mentally and physically. Seeing Hermione and Ron in these beds had been some of the scariest moments of my life. That shit still made guest appearances in my nightmares. 

Abdul opened the doors for us and shouted for Madam Pomfrey. She scurried out from behind one of the cloth dividers between the beds. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the Infirmary, so I breathed easier. It’s not that I wasn’t concerned for Marcy, I was, I just also didn’t want to see Malfoy after our ‘small talk.’

“What happened here?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she took over the levitation from me and lowered Marcy into a bed. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Abdul said through a choking sob. He had obviously been holding his anguish back the whole walk over and it seemed the damn had opened now that his friend was in Pomfrey’s care. Snot ran down his face within seconds. 

“Of course not, dearie,” she told him and busied herself with casting a diagnostic spell. Her magic filled the room, gliding about like a gentle breeze. Pomfrey was one hell of a witch and an even more impressive Healer. I never saw her flinch at any of the odd injuries she had to deal with. I found that more impressive than anything. 

“I must have messed up the wrist motion.” Abdul’s sobs quieted as he looked down at his friend. His face turned serious. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve never sent out a spell that powerful.”

Marcy sucked in a wet breath and reached for Abdul. That started his hysterics all over again. He clutched her hand as her eyes fluttered closed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Punctured lung,” she said, confirming my theory. With a flick of her wrist, Madam Pomfrey had Marcy under a stasis charm to keep Marcy’s injury from worsening. She turned to Abdul. “I assume you will be staying at your friend's side?”

He nodded.

“Good. I will be back in a moment.” She eyed me over her glasses. “Mr Potter, would you help me carry the potions over? I seem to have misplaced my new apprentice.”

I followed Madam Pomfrey to her storage room. I was about to ask why she needed me when she could have Accio’d the ingredients or else levitated them, when Madam Pomfrey turned to me and said, “I’ll need to see his wand.”

“Uh, we must have left it behind. Is something wrong?”

She grabbed some phials and handed them to me. The look of exasperation at my question would put any face Hermione could ever pull to shame. “I made a diagnosis, and it seems just like what Mr Jacobs said—that he messed up the motion and the Shield came out too powerful—but I want to check the wand just to be sure. Better to be safe than sorry, surely?”

My eyes widened at the implication. So many years had passed since Voldemort, but the ghost of what transpired haunted everyone; even sturdy, unflappable Madam Pomfrey. “I’ll grab his wand. I think he left it in the classroom.”

“Good, you do that.” She took all the stuff out of my hands, which made me suddenly obsolete. “And while you’re at it, if you see my apprentice anywhere, send him up.”

I tried to fight the urge to ask about Malfoy, but the urge won out. “How’s it going with him? As your apprentice, I mean.”

“Very well. He is competent, efficient, and determined. That’s why I picked him. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I guess. Never pictured Malfoy as a Healer when we were in school.”

“Yes, I can imagine you wouldn’t. I found it rather shocking at first, but after working with him, it’s clear this is his passion. It’s quite nice to see how far he’s come, don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” The thing was, I actually did. I’d seen the change in eighth year and found I really rather liked that version of Malfoy, a lot. And then he had to go and sleep with me and never call. The jerk. 

“You’ve all been through so much,” tears welled in her eyes, “and I am proud to know you. Especially you and Mr Malfoy. Both of you have been through more than enough for ten lifetimes.”

I touched Madam Pomfrey’s shoulder and squeezed. It wasn’t like her to openly show affection. She was more like McGonagall in that regard; stiff upper lip, sideways glances, and concern that came in the form of veiled reprimands. I’d known Madam Pomfrey cared for me, but she’d never quite voiced it. I didn’t know how to react, so I patted her shoulder and said, “There, there.”

She sniffled. “If you see Healer Malfoy, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Will do.”

* * *

After retrieving Abdul’s wand, I decided to take the long route back to the Infirmary making a half-hearted attempt at looking for Malfoy as I went along, but he was nowhere that I could see. The halls were empty. Most students were in their lessons or in the Great Hall, so when I heard footsteps behind me, my throat went dry. Considering my karma lately, I figured if I turned around I’d be face-to-face with Malfoy or else Voldemort’s ghost. I’m not sure which I would prefer. 

“You know, I hear it’s bad form if the professor skives off classes.” Malfoy stepped into pace at my side. He wore his teal Healer robes and the students were right, he looked amazing in them. He had a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a croissant wrapped in a napkin in the other. 

I stuck my tongue out at him. Not the most adult response, I’m aware, but my heart was busy doing cartwheels in my chest, so talking felt a bit out of the question. 

That earned me one of those toe-curling smiles. “Very mature, Potter.” He took a bite of his croissant and some of the flakes fell onto his chest. He didn’t seem to notice or care which Merlin, help me, I found endearing.

“Madam Pomfrey was looking for you,” I told him when my heart got itself under control. 

He nodded, taking another bite. “Another student in the Infirmary?”

I gave him my best ‘shut up’ face. “Knockback Jinxes are hard.”

Malfoy bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “I’m sure. You’ve had, what, three or four injuries in the last week?” 

“The wrist motion is…complex.”

“You’re right. It’s a very hard spell to teach.” I knew he was teasing me because I had that feeling in my gut like I wanted nothing more than to shove him and punch him, or else kiss him. My brain and my cock couldn’t seem to come to a consensus on which was the better option. 

_Ugh_. I needed air. Air would help. People in movies were always getting air when they had a lot on their mind. I stopped walking and Malfoy stopped with me. “Look, I’ve got…errands to run before my next class. I was bringing Abdul’s wand to Madam Pomfrey and since you’re going that way anyway.” I stuck the wand out for him. 

“Sure.” He grabbed it with his pinky finger and tucked it under his arm since he still had most of the croissant in one hand and the coffee in the other. 

“Bye.” I took one last look at Malfoy in all his annoying beauty before turning on my heel and speed-walking off in the opposite direction. Sheesh. Get it together, Harry. 

* * *

The next week passed in a blur of parchments to grade, meals taken in my rooms, avoiding Malfoy, and the odd question about what had happened. Marcy had woken up the next day but needed to spend a few more days in the Infirmary, recovering from the broken bones. 

I couldn’t convince any of my students to practice the Knockback Jinx or Shield Charm after Marcy’s injury, which I completely understood, so instead, we moved on to the Patronus charm. Mine had saved my life more times than I could count, so I figured it would ease my students’ minds to learn something protective and then we could return to Knockback when the memory was less fresh. 

My class poured in, taking their seats. Marcy’s chair remained empty, but Abdul returned to class at the insistence of both Madam Pomfrey and Headmistress McGonagall, though they’d had to promise to let him sleep and take meals with Marcy in order to convince him to attend classes. He looked bone-tired. The bags under his eyes were a dark purple offset by his deep brown skin. That must have been what I looked like all through school, ragged and fed up with everything. I’d had the same dark purple bags under my eyes, the same sullen expression. It was hard not to see myself in Abdul. 

The students all smiled at him when he was looking and then turned to whisper once he turned away. My jaw clenched reflexively. Even though it had been an accident, there was still gossip floating around like flotsam in low tide about whether Abdul had done it on purpose. I did a mental eye roll. Sometimes I forget how cruel people can be, especially school-age people who are all being ravaged by hormones and peer pressure. 

“Good morning, class,” I said once they were all seated. “Today we are going to continue our lessons with the Patronus charm. You will pair up and take turns, watching and noting what works and what doesn’t. Remember, even a wisp of silver is progress.” I nodded to them and started pairing the students off. 

I passed by Abdul’s table and paired him with Patricia Cullen. He didn’t seem to hear me, but Patricia scooted into the empty chair beside him and smiled politely at him. “Abdul, was it awful looking at Marcy’s blood?” she asked in a whisper. 

I moved onto the next table, keeping an eye on Abdul to see what he said. He ignored Patricia, but I could see the beginning of tears in his eyes. I locked eyes with Patricia. “Let’s keep the conversations focused on Patronuses, shall we?” 

Patricia looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Yes, Professor.” She opened her book and flipped to the right chapter and busied herself with reading. Abdul just sat there. I couldn’t find it in my heart to tell him to focus. 

After forty minutes, two students had produced what amounted to a glimmer of the silvery charm, but at least it was something. Most of them had taken time to make a list of happy memories to try to see which one worked right for the spell and went about making notes on what they felt when they’d focused on a certain memory. Others were less clinical about it and just dove right in, speaking the charm. 

“I think that’s enough practice for today,” I said, drawing their attention back to the front of the classroom. “Let’s switch gears for a bit and discuss the theories in the chapter on why the Patronus needs a happy memory.”

A hand shot up in the back of class. A mousy girl named Ariel. I nodded to let her know she could speak. “Professor, is it true your Patronus is a stag? That’s what Rita Skeeter says in her book, you know?”

That damned book. Rita Skeeter, true to form, had chronicled the war as best she could, embellishing nearly everything and leaving out more truth than she included. But of course, that she gets right. “Yes, that is the form my Patronus takes.”

Another hand shot up. This time it was Patricia. “Can, uh, can you show us?”

From my place in front of the blackboard, I had a good view of the class and all of their expectant faces. I also had a good look at the door to the classroom which was ajar. The edge of a white-blonde head was just barely visible. My heart leapt in my chest. Malfoy was listening in. 

“Professor?” Patricia asked, sounding confused which meant I must have gone silent for a bit too long to be considered normal.

I snapped my attention back to her, intent on ignoring Malfoy at the door. So what if he was listening in on my lesson? I was a good teacher; there was nothing to be ashamed of, so then why was a blush creeping up my neck? Why did my hands suddenly feel clammy? I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t really think that is a good idea. We need to focus on theory and if I do this, we’ll never get back on topic.”

“Please, Professor. We want to see,” Patricia said with nods of encouragement from her classmates. 

I heard the door creak, opening ever so slightly. Malfoy’s twinkling eyes and chiselled features were visible. He watched me intently with a look on his face that could cause a riot on the streets. I know that look. That look ruined me. It was the look of pure, unadulterated sex. Fuck him for looking at me like that. 

The class grew more excited by the idea, to the point that even Abdul had perked up. I saw so much of myself in him and knew what learning the Patronus had done for me; making me feel protected in a world that wanted to use me, change me, judge me. It gave me control, and I figured Abdul could use some of that. 

“Does it get life-size?” Abdul asked, his voice hoarse. The corners of his mouth pulled into a tight smile. “It must be a wonderful sight.”

“Yeah, please show us,” Patrica begged. She clutched her hands in front of her and stuck out her bottom lip. 

What the hell? I did have a pretty impressive Patronus. The students would be in awe of it, that much I knew. It could be just the right bit of gossip needed to keep people away from topics like Abdul and Marcy. It also held a bit of a selfish appeal. Malfoy would be impressed. I knew he’d been impressed by it eighth year, constantly asking me to cast it so he could watch my stag prance around free and happy. So okay, I wanted to impress Malfoy. We can unpack the reason why... _never_. 

“Fine, but if I do this, you all have to promise to focus for the rest of the lesson? Understood?”

There were murmurs of agreement accompanied by the sound of the classroom door opening a bit more. Malfoy stood there leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest wearing his bright teal Healer robe looking like the rom-com version of a doctor. Some students turned to look at the noise. There were some gasps. 

Malfoy raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. A few people giggled. Patricia turned in her seat. “Are you going to watch Professor Potter cast his Patronus, Healer Malfoy? Have you seen it before? Is it as cool as Rita Skeeter says?”

“Cooler,” he answered, then turned his attention to me. “You mind, Professor? It’s been some time since I’ve laid my eyes on your…Patronus.” He shot me a glance with those smoke-gray eyes that went right to my core. We both knew he didn’t mean my Patronus. “I’d love to see it again.”

Sick. I was going to be sick. Well, not sick-sick, but my stomach definitely felt like it was doing some creative gymnastics that my heart didn’t seem to like one bit if its accelerated pumping was any indication. After all these years, was Malfoy flirting with me? Finally acknowledging what happened? 

Merlin, I needed a drink, or ten. 

“I don’t mind,” I said, but I did mind. I minded a lot. Malfoy had used the excuse of wanting a Patronus lesson to get me alone and then proceed to unbutton my trousers and ruin my fucking life. Okay, so that’s a bit dramatic, but the sex had been life-changing and then nothing…poof! It was like it had never happened. The jerk. The sexy, stupid jerk. 

Everyone went silent as Malfoy made his way into the classroom, sauntering past the students. He headed straight for my desk at the front of the class, pulled my chair out, plopped down gracefully and grinned. “Well?”

My heart pounded so fiercely I could hear it in my head. _Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh._ I bit my bottom lip, braced myself in a wide-footed stance and focused my mind. I’d cast this charm so many times before that I hardly needed to put any effort into conjuring up a happy memory. Originally, it had been an idea of a memory. One of my parents. But over time I’d collected so many other good memories that I had no shortage to choose from. I let my eyes close as I thought of holding Teddy at his first birthday party. His chubby fingers wrapped around my index finger. That would do. 

As I began to speak the spell, the memory shifted. I was still holding Teddy at his birthday party, but now it included Malfoy. He’d come late, dressed in what looked like the clothes he’d slept in. We’d locked eyes across the room. Malfoy smiled at me, big and open, and I felt my heart stop. 

That was the memory in my mind as the words came out. My eyes were still closed, but I’d heard the impressed gasps from the class that told me I’d managed to cast despite the sour feeling in my gut at the thought of Malfoy dating just about everyone except for me.

“That’s not a stag.” Patricia sounded concerned, her voice cracking at the end.

My eyes snapped open and sure enough, the wispy silver-white figure in front of me wasn’t a prancing stag. It was a dragon. A fucking DRAGON. What the hell? The thing watched me, breathing smoke out of its nose. It wasn’t anything like the dragons I’d seen at the Triwizard tournament. It was smaller, more like a large serpent. The term Wyrm edged its way into my mind. It had to be a coincidence. Right? _Right?_ There was a perfectly rational explanation as to why my Patronus, which hadn’t changed in years suddenly morphed into a fucking dragon-serpent thing.

“That’s a dragon. A Wyrm to be exact.” Malfoy’s voice was steady, but when I looked back at him there was hesitation on his face. He’d stood up and had his head tilted to look up at the Patronus who seemed to be sizing him up. 

“Oh, cool! A dragon?” Ollie said. There were similar exclamations from the other students. Patricia had taken to asking why it wasn’t a stag over and over, but I didn’t answer her. I was too busy looking at Malfoy looking at my Patronus. 

Finally, he tore his eyes off the dragon and locked gazes with me. I felt like each of my heartbeats came in slow motion. Malfoy didn’t say anything, but it was implied in the way he looked at me. He wanted to talk later. No doubt he was curious about why my Patronus sort of looked like it was representative of his name and family crest. I personally would have liked to forget it. 

* * *

“Do you have a minute to talk now?” Malfoy asked, entering my office and shutting the door behind him. He’d changed out of his robes and instead wore what looked like his pyjamas. Gray sweatpants, white undershirt covered up by a pale blue knit cardigan. 

“Not exactly what I’d pictured you to wear as pyjamas,” I blurted out. He grinned at me and that grin made my nipples hard. “Not like I picture you in your pyjamas. Or at all. I never picture your clothes ever.” _Shit_. I groaned internally. “That’s…not what I meant. I meant that I expected you to wear more expensive-looking pyjamas. It’s a bit casual for you, is all.” Malfoy was smirking at me now. “Okay, shut up.”

He did a palms-up gesture. “I didn’t say anything.” His voice was a low purr, burning with unspoken meaning. 

Thank Merlin there was an entire desk between us or else I might have done something stupid like jump him. “Your face said it.”

“Is my face saying anything else?” He inched further into my office, taking in the mess on my desk. “Busy grading or was there a storm that only hit your office?”

I looked around at the mess and wished I’d thought to straighten up. Casual. I was going to play this real casual. Well, as casually as a person could play a situation like this. My Patronus might as well have been a huge blinking neon sign that said ‘I love you.’ Most people knew the only reason it changed was love. I know Malfoy knew that; I’d been the one to teach him how to cast his after all.

The thought was unbearable. I couldn’t… _didn’t_ love someone whose longest relationship was probably with his tailor. I cleared my throat. “Did you come here to comment on how messy my office is, or is there an actual reason for your visit?” 

Malfoy laughed, and it was like spun silk sliding down my body. “Care to take a guess as to why your Patronus is suddenly a dragon?”

My stomach clenched and immediately, I felt heat pooling in my groin. Merlin, this man was like a walking orgasm. I bet if he just stood there, laughing like that and looking at me like I was dinner, I could get there without even being touched “Weird glitch?” 

“Not very likely.” He took another step towards me, moving around the desk. “Yours has been a stag since you were thirteen. Try again.”

“I did it as a joke. I’m funny like that.”

“Not how a Patronus works. Any other guesses?” Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, making my heart flutter. He looked at me and perched on the edge of my desk. 

I craned my neck to look up at him. “I’m really not sure why…maybe it’s stress-related. I’ve been stressed. Stress can affect all sorts of things, so maybe it did something to my Patronus.” Okay, that sounded even lamer than the glitch, but I wasn’t going to say it. I was not going to admit out loud that I had the hots for Malfoy, especially if he still wouldn’t acknowledge what happened between us. 

Malfoy licked his bottom lip. “Have you been under much stress?”

“Teaching is stressful. Grading is stressful. I have loads to do. Haven’t you ever been stressed?” I gave him a stern look. It was the one Molly gave any of us when we refused to bring leftovers home after a visit. I’d seen it bring even Fleur, who was almost as stubborn as Molly, to her knees. Malfoy seemed immune. Maybe I was doing it wrong. 

Malfoy shrugged. “Stressing gives you worry lines. You always worried too much growing up. Don’t look at me like that, yes when Voldemort was alive it was valid, but I watched you stress over things eighth year to the point that you got a little eye twitch.”

Reflexively I touched my left eyebrow. “Not true.”

He shook his head. “You stress too much. In fact, I can see you stressing right now and your eye is about to twitch.”

Just because the universe is determined to see me make a fool of myself, my eye twitched. _Shit_. I hated that he was right about the eye twitch thing. Merlin, I needed a vacation. Charlie was always inviting me up to stay and help him with the dragons. Yikes, never mind. No dragons. I could go to New York and see Hermione, Ron, and the kids. That sounded better. Put a whole ocean between me and my Malfoy problem. 

Malfoy let out a chuckle. The sound was breathy, amused, and dangerously sexy. It was the kind of laugh that could make a person do something stupid like take all their clothes off. He leant closer. “I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears. What are you thinking about?”

Damn. I’d done that whole ‘going silent’ thing that everyone told me I did when I was deep in thought. “Sorry, uh, nothing. I wasn’t thinking of anything.”

Another laugh. “You really need to get better at lying if you insist on doing it so often.” 

“I’m _not_ lying,” I said, my voice going up an octave at the end. I turned away from him, hoping he couldn’t see me blushing. Yeesh. I really was bad at this. Even _I_ didn’t believe that last one. 

Malfoy put his index finger under my chin and dragged my head up to look at him. Those smoke-gray eyes boring into me like a drill. “Liar.”

I took a deep breath. Right, okay, so to take inventory: my heart was running wild like a nervous rabbit in the brush, my mouth was drier than a desert, and I was sure if I stood up, there would be a very obvious show of desire that I would have a hell of a time hiding. Talk about old habits. I was about to let Malfoy seduce me…again.

“Spill,” he told me.

“Fine, I was thinking…I should take a vacation.” My voice sounded hoarse, and I know he noticed because his eyes widened. 

“The summer break just ended.” He moved his finger out from under my chin, dragged it along my jaw and fanned his hand out across my cheek. “You need another one so soon?”

Danger. Danger. Is this really happening? _Maybe_. Did I want it to happen? _Yes_. Should I let it happen? _No_. Not if he was going to fuck me and then pretend it didn’t happen. I’d already seen that movie, I didn’t think the sequel would be any different. My mind was made up, but my body wasn’t so sure. My body wanted to let Malfoy throw me over my desk. My body didn’t get a vote. 

Malfoy’s hand was on my face and he was looking down at me like he wanted to kiss me. My heart stopped for a second. “Hermione and Ron are in New York. I need to see them.”

“Not right now, surely?” He moved his hand down to my neck. He ran his thumb over my pulse point, and I worked really hard to keep a whimper from escaping my lips. It felt amazing to be touched by him. Shit, no, focus. I would not sleep with Malfoy. 

I managed to choke out a one-word answer. “Soon.”

“It’s the middle of term.” He wrapped his hand around the nape of my neck, pulling me closer to him. 

My skin felt like it was on fire under his hand. Merlin, I needed to get out of here. Take a cold shower. A really cold shower. Or maybe jump into the Black Lake. Instead, I said, “I’ll go over the upcoming long weekend or something. It will be good to get away.” 

Malfoy smiled and my mind unhelpfully supplied an image of Malfoy naked under the moonlight smiling down at me that fateful night. Now my mind wasn’t so sure it was a bad idea to let him take a second run at ruining my life. At the very least, I knew it would be good sex, really good sex. And it had been a long time since anyone had touched me. I was due an orgasm, wasn’t I? It didn’t matter that Malfoy would ignore me later. I didn’t care because it’s not like I wanted a relationship with him. Just an orgasm. Right? Right.

“That’s all you were thinking?” Malfoy leaned down until our noses were touching. “You need a vacation…because of stress?”

“Yes, exactly,” I said before he closed the gap and kissed me. He knew exactly how to kiss a person so that they turned into a puddle of desire. Nothing else mattered when his tongue was in my mouth. Before my mind could even catch up to what was happening, I moaned into the kiss, feeling a little flare of embarrassment at how desperate I sounded, but I quickly forgot it when Malfoy shoved my chair away from the desk and straddled my lap. 

I sat there, unable to move, letting myself be kissed by Malfoy and enjoying the taste of him. He kissed like he did everything else; boldly. My body was warm all over and my arousal was nearing painful. Suddenly, Malfoy pulled back, leaving me dazed and blinking. My Floo was chirping. Merlin fuck, whoever it was had the worst timing. Or maybe the best. I’d decide later. 

“You should get that.” Malfoy slid off my lap, slipped out the door, and left me sitting stunned at my desk with someone shouting for me through my Floo. 

“Harrrrry,” Luna’s voice came through the Floo. 

I looked down at my trousers. Sheesh. I grabbed my robe off the back of my chair and put it on before sitting in front of the Floo. “Luna, what’s up?”

She took a moment, assessing me. “You look flustered. Oh my, did you and Malfoy…you know? Was I interrupting? Oh, dear.”

I rolled my eyes. “There is no way you can tell I’m flustered through the Floo.”

“I have my ways.”

If it had been anyone else, I might have called bullshite, but Luna was the textbook definition of mysterious. For all I knew, she was psychic. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“Deflection. Classic Harry.” She tutted her disapproval. “What is up is that Ginny just proposed!” 

“Oh, Luna, that’s so,” I cleared my throat, “that’s wonderful.” Dual emotions ran through me like rushing rivers meeting at a conflux that filled me with both existential dread and pure joy. “How…well, tell me how did it happen?”

“Completely out of the blue she wanted to go for a walk, so we went to this meadow I love. You know the one with all the wildflowers? Well, as the sun set, she just took me in her arms and asked, just like that! And we drank a bit to celebrate and then decided to have a small party at the Burrow next weekend to celebrate. Hermione, Ron, and the kids are coming to stay since it's the long weekend. You are off from Hogwarts, right?”

“Yes, I have off. I’m so happy for you guys.” Everyone was getting married. I could barely decide if I wanted Malfoy to fuck me or ignore me or love me. The idea of seeing Hermione, Ron, and the kids perked me up a bit, but not enough. 

“You should bring Malfoy as your not-date,” she said, winking. There was some giggling and then Ginny was in the frame saying something that came out so slurred I couldn’t make it out and then the Floo went dark. 

* * *

I went to the Great Hall for breakfast at the normal time. Four days had passed since Malfoy kissed me and then proceeded to do what he did best, act like it never happened. Four whole days. No letter to ask if I wanted to finish what we’d started. No showing up at my office after hours to straddle me at my desk. I’d checked my Patronus seven times. Each time it came up a fucking dragon. I told myself I didn’t care. So what? So Malfoy kissed me and ignored me. Who cares? Not me. 

I found myself scanning the room for Malfoy; so, maybe I cared a little. I thought I’d handled myself pretty well over the last few days considering most of me wanted to go to his quarters and demand an explanation or at least an orgasm. That thought made my stomach flop. Yeesh. No Malfoy, but I did see Madam Pomfrey at the long professors’ table. There were a few empty seats next to her. The only other spot was next to Professor Flitwick and he looked cranky. Madam Pomfrey smiled at me and nodded. That was her way of saying ‘the seat next to me is open if you’d like it’. I sighed. What the hell? I was already here, might as well eat breakfast. 

“Morning,” I said, pulling my chair out. “How are things?” 

“Things are well. Not too many incidents this week.”

I nodded and piled eggs, bacon, and toast onto my plate. “That’s good.” Merlin, I wanted to ask about Malfoy so bad. _No. Forget it._ “Are you excited for the autumn weather? The leaves are starting to change.”

“I suppose.” She tilted her head to the side to get a better look at me. “You look tired. Are you not sleeping? You should stop by later and let me give you a few Sleeping Draughts.”

“I’m okay. It’s just been a busy few days,” I told her. It wasn’t a total lie. After Ginny and Luna’s drunken Floo call to inform me about their engagement, I’d been roped into helping contact everyone they wanted at the party this weekend. I was pretty sure I’d gotten carpal tunnel from all the letters.

Madam Pomfrey gave me an appraising look that made me feel like I was thirteen again and explaining how I’d fainted on the train. “Bad busy, or good?” 

“Good. Ginny and Luna just got engaged. I’m helping them get the party together for this weekend.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, I always liked those two. I bet they keep each other on their toes.”

I bit back a laugh and focused on buttering my toast. She didn’t know half of it. Ginny and Luna were the relationship equivalent of a roller coaster. Not because of any ups and downs, but because they lived life fast, loved faster, and often let others in on the ride. 

“I’ve still got a few things to tie up.” I thought of my spinster status and added, “And I need to find a plus one so I’m not the only person there alone.”

“Ah, Healer Malfoy, there is a seat open next to Professor Potter. Won’t you sit with us?”

My head snapped up so fast I gave myself whiplash. Malfoy looked down at me. His usual hard-on-inducing smile was replaced by a look of shock. “Potter, what an honour to see you at breakfast. The house-elves gave you the boot?”

I cleared my throat. “Just felt like a change of pace.”

He pulled out his chair. Our elbows hit as he took his seat and the contact burned through me like liquid gold. He took a muffin and poured himself some coffee. “Why do you need a plus one? Is there a Ministry event?”

“Ginny and Luna got engaged.” Madam Pomfrey offered up before I could say anything. “They are having a party this weekend. Isn’t that lovely? Those girls are something else.”

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up. “A party, huh?” 

“It’s a small thing.” My heart thumped helplessly against my ribs. Shite, but did he make me nervous. “Family and close friends mostly.”

“And you need a date?” He sounded intrigued by the idea. “Or at least someone to commiserate with since you’ll be the only single one there?”

Both. Neither. “Probably I won’t invite anyone. It’s last minute. Most people have plans for the long weekend. Anyway, I’m helping set it up. I’ll be busy most of the time.”

“Ah, well, tell them congratulations from me.” He smirked, and I felt hot all over. “I always liked Luna. Ginevra I could live without, unless she’s stopped hitting people with hexes.” He sounded hopeful, and a bit scared which I found hilarious. “Now I think of it, I should send a gift over with you. Something to keep me on Ginevra’s anti-hex list.”

Lay it on thick, I thought. Malfoy is not coming to this party as my plus one. Hell will freeze over before I let him trick me into inviting him so he could kiss me and then leave me wanting more. “Gin is still a bit hex-crazy. She learned a few new ones on their summer tour. Foreign ones. It couldn’t hurt.”

Malfoy sucked in a deep breath. “I still get flashbacks of that hex she threw at Theo eighth year when he cheated on Neville. Brutal.”

“That’s Gin. I’ll pass on your congratulations and the gift.”

“How kind of you.” He took a bite of his muffin. Crumbs fell all down the front of his robe, but Malfoy didn’t brush them away. He just took another bite. I really hated how adorable I found it. 

“It’s over the long weekend,” Madam Pomfrey said like she was coming up with the invention of fire. “I’m going to see some family, so we won’t be doing any training for a few days. Healer Malfoy, you would be free to go to the party and congratulate them and give them the gift yourself if you wished. You could go as Professor Potter’s plus one.”

I turned to face Malfoy. “You wouldn’t want…you’re probably not free.”

“Oh,” he took another bite of muffin, “I only planned to do some reading over the weekend.”

Madam Pomfrey elbowed me. I turned to see her giving me a stern look that said ‘don’t be rude.’ I took a deep breath. “I guess it would be nice to have help setting up if you’re okay with that. Ron and George almost always get distracted talking about new products for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and I end up finishing it by myself. We can commiserate while we put up the outdoor tents.” 

Malfoy licked the crumbs off the corner of his mouth And for the first time in my life I wished to be muffin crumbs. “I almost never get distracted, and I am a great commiserater. Plus, I love cake.”

“I didn’t say there would be cake.” 

He looked at me like I had Mandrake Roots growing out of my ears. “All parties have cake.”

Well, he had me there. I hadn’t been to a party at the Weasleys’ that didn’t have at least two different kinds of cake, plus biscuits, and chocolate chip cookies. “Okay, well…I was planning to stay the night, but you don’t…”

He smiled, and I knew I was in trouble. “I’ll pack a bag.”

“Right, okay. Great.”

“Isn’t that nice?” Madam Pomfrey asked, taking a final sip of her tea before standing up. “You boys have fun.” 

* * *

Ever since I’d offered to take Malfoy with me to the Burrow, I’d been a mess. When I saw him in the halls or at meals, I darted away with some excuse about needing to check on something. On the plus side, I thought I might be getting better at lying. He hardly called me out on it anymore. Either that, or he knew I was lying and didn’t care.

 _Get it together, Harry_. I wanted him. Bad. My whole body ached with how bad I wanted him, but I also knew what it would feel like if I let him have me and then forget me like last time. It would feel terrible. I couldn’t go through that again. I wouldn’t. This would not be a date or anything date-like. He would come with me. Help set up. Drink some champagne. Eat Molly’s cake. And then we would sleep and be back at Hogwarts before I knew it. Not a date. No kissing. No…anything. 

“Professor?” A voice called from behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

My eyes widened when I noticed that I’d been writing on the chalkboard while lost in thought and happened to write one word: _Malfoy_. Merlin, fuck. I dropped the chalk and Marcy, who was back from her injury, asked me if I needed to go to the Infirmary. 

“Uh,” I said, staring at the chalkboard in disbelief. I’d been so wrapped up in my own head I’d forgotten I was teaching. Wow, wow, wow. That is very not good. I erased Malfoy’s name with the sleeve of my robe. “I’m fine, Marcy. Thank you.”

“You sure? It’s just, you’ve been turned around like that for the last five minutes. Class let out and everyone left, but I wanted to ask you a question.”

I turned around and she was right. The class was empty. “Oh, uh, I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

She smiled a shy smile. “Are you and Healer Malfoy dating?”

My eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I just, I was in the Infirmary and he talked about you a lot, and, well you just wrote his name on the board.”

I looked over my shoulder at the board. “Oh, that’s not…” I trailed off because I’d been about to say ‘that’s not what it looks like’ which was just about the lamest lie in the book. “Um, what did you want to ask me, Marcy?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and tucked the same piece of hair behind her ear again. “Well, you know how we’ve been studying Patronuses right?” I nodded, urging her on. “I wondered if you could tell me what it means if you share the same Patronus with someone?”

“Well, it could mean a few things,” I told her, motioning for her to take a seat next to me in the first row of desks. “Can I ask you who you share a Patronus shape with?”

Marcy blushed. “I haven’t actually cast one yet.”

“Oh, then is this theoretical?” She nodded. “Well, a few theories are that you share the shape with someone you love. Like when mine was a Stag, it was because of my father, so I suppose it is a reflection of love.”

“Yours is still a dragon, then?”

Her question caught me off-guard. I didn’t like to think about what my sudden Patronus change meant. She’d been in the Infirmary when I’d cast my Patronus, but the news had been all over Hogwarts before dinner that night. And, of course, there’d been an article in the next day’s paper, so it wasn’t too surprising that she’d heard. Hell, Molly had called when she read about it, asking me if Charlie and I were dating since his Patronus was a dragon, too. 

“You know, Healer Malfoy’s is a dragon. Isn’t that weird? It looks just like yours, too,” she said. “He showed me to cheer me up and said you taught him how to do it in your eighth year.”

“That is weird, but not terribly so,” I said while I tried to come up with a convincing reason why that could happen, “I’ve heard other theories about…shared trauma.” Yeah, that’s good. Shared trauma. We had that in spades thanks to Voldemort. 

“Oh, but don’t you need a happy memory to create a Patronus?”

I mentally slapped my forehead. Duh. “Um, well, yes, that’s true…”

“Huh, well, I guess the end of the war was a happy moment for you and Healer Malfoy, so that makes sense.” 

“Right, exactly.” I smiled at her hoping it looked casual and not like a grimace. She thanked me and left. Merlin, did I know how to live a complicated life or what? 

* * *

My stomach was somewhere in the vicinity of my throat, and I’d been pacing for the better part of an hour. My overnight bag was packed and sitting on my desk. Where was Malfoy? I told him we were leaving at nine. It was…I cast a Tempus. Okay, so it wasn’t nine yet.

“Shit,” I said to myself because I needed to do something with all my nervous energy. The thought that Malfoy’s Patronus was the same as mine, that he’d talked to Marcy about me while she was in the Infirmary…well, it was all I could think about. Spending the weekend with Malfoy with all those unsaid things between us sounded _exhausting_. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” I kicked my ottoman and watched it topple over. It hit the carpet with a soft thud. It looked sad sitting on its side like that, so I knelt down to right it just as Malfoy knocked on my office door. 

He didn’t bother waiting to be invited in. Just opened the door and sauntered in wearing tight, dark blue jeans paired with a short-sleeved black shirt. He had his hair brushed back and styled with some product that made him look windswept but in a very attractive way. His leather overnight back hung off his shoulder. Seeing it made me warm all over. There weren’t many places to sleep in the Burrow. We’d end up in the same room. I was so beyond fucked.

“Sorry, I’m a few minutes early,” he said, giving me an odd look. “Why are you on the floor?”

I looked at my ottoman and rolled my eyes. “Knocked my ottoman over.” I stood up and grabbed my bag off the desk. “Ready?”

Malfoy pursed his lips. “Before we go…can I ask you something?”

Oh, boy. “Uh, sure.” I cleared my throat. “What’s up?”

He stepped closer to me, swung his bag to rest on the desk and pulled out a silver gift box tied with blue ribbon. He slipped the lid off and inside were two bronze bracelets with rose quartz stones inlaid. “I charmed them so when they touch the bracelet the other will feel the touch. Do you think they will like them?”

Wordlessly, I reached out and ran a finger across one of the bracelets. I could feel his magic working in the bronze-like static. My throat felt tight. When I looked up at him, he wore an expression that seemed out of place on his face which so often exuded confidence. He seemed vulnerable. That face made me want to pull him into a kiss. I wanted to do more than kiss him, and I didn’t want it to be like the last time. I think maybe I loved Malfoy. Maybe I’d loved him this whole time. Maybe that’s why my Patronus changed when I thought about him smiling at me at Teddy’s party. Maybe that’s why I’d been single for so long. Did I mention how fucked I was?

“Potter? You’re doing that whole quiet thing again.” He laughed. It sounded nervous which made me nervous. “Everything okay? Is the gift awful? Should I just give them money? I can give them a ton of money instead.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “They’re fantastic. Really, Malfoy, _stunning_. They will love them.” I pulled my hand away from the bracelet and turned towards the Floo. My heart pounded so furiously I was afraid it would break my ribs if it kept up. Merlin, I love Malfoy. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Why are you saying ‘shit’ over and over?” Malfoy asked, and I realised I’d been saying it out loud. 

“I, uh, forgot toothpaste.” I turned to face him and he was giving me that odd look again like maybe I was part Cyclops. I hooked my thumb in the direction of my room. “I need to go grab it.”

Malfoy tucked the present back in his bag. “You can just use mine.”

I nodded. “Right, of course. That’s easier. We should go now, probably.”

* * *

“Harry James Potter, you have some serious explaining to do,” Ron said as soon as I stepped out of the Floo. When Malfoy came through after me, he added, “Oh, hey, Malfoy. You look nice. We’ll be right back. Hermione needs our help changing Hugo.” He grabbed my elbow and led me through the living room, leaving Malfoy in the capable hands of Bill and George who were asking him how he got his hair to look like that. 

I looked over my shoulder and Malfoy was smirking at me. Fucked. I was beyond fucked. My heart did a little flip. I couldn’t love Malfoy. He didn’t do ‘commitment.’ He dated more people than anyone I knew and each relationship lasted less than a month. And on top of that, he still hadn’t said anything about us sleeping together. I couldn’t be in love with someone who had commitment issues. No way. 

“Harry, why didn’t you tell us about the Patronus?” Ron looked tense as he dragged me up the narrow stairs to his old childhood bedroom where the sounds of children laughing could be heard. 

“Didn’t seem important?” I tried. 

Ron got to the landing in front of his door, rolled his eyes at me, then pushed the door open to pandemonium. Rose was jumping up and down on Ron’s old bed with Victoire while Hermione tried to keep Hugo still long enough to secure his diaper. Ron walked over to Hermione and took her place. “He claims it didn’t seem important.”

Hermione threw me a nasty look. “Harry James Potter, you absolute…doody-head.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Did you just call me a doody-head?”

“Mommy said doody!” Rose shouted and then giggled. “Doody, doody.” Victoire joined in the chorus of doody, doody, doody. Ron laughed, too, but quickly shut up when Hermione threw a baby blanket at him. 

“We are trying to avoid cursing in front of the kids,” she said, sliding her gaze at Ron who just shrugged, “It was Fleur who suggested it. Whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is how you sent us a letter detailing your daily routine and how you managed to avoid Malfoy but left out the part where your Patronus, which has been a stag for, oh, I don’t know, forever, is suddenly not a stag. Oh, then there’s the fact that it is now a dragon and we had to read about it in a letter from Molly, who wanted to know if it was because you and Charlie had something going on.” She looked at Ron for a beat. “Does that cover it?”

Ron nodded, picking Hugo up and placing him on his shoulders. Hugo let out a coo of appreciation and immediately took to slapping Ron’s head. “That’s basically it, yes.”

“So? Care to explain?” Hermione placed her hands on her hips. 

“Not really.” That earned me a death glare, so I sighed. “Fine, okay, so my Patronus is different, so what? I already told Molly that I wasn’t dating Charlie.” 

Ron looked confused. “We don’t care about any of that. We want to know why you didn’t tell us.”

“That my Patronus changed?”

“No,” he said, lowering his voice, “about Malfoy.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” I knew I said it too fast when Hermione slapped her forehead in frustration. 

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said, ignoring Hugo’s attempt to play the bongos on his head. “Your Patronus is a dragon, which happens to be symbolic for Draco, and he’s your date to the engagement party. Seems like there’s loads to tell.”

“How long do you think we have before someone comes looking for us?”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look of silent communication. Ron moved to shut the door behind me. “Probably five more minutes. Fleur was making sandwiches for the kids.”

So I told them everything, starting with that night during eighth year. 

* * *

“Okay, what gives? Hermione and Ron keep looking at us and whispering,” Malfoy said when we finished setting up the last tent. The backyard of the Burrow looked almost as done up as it had for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. There were bewitched candles lending dim light to the fading day. More tulle than any person could need. And flowers, tons of flowers.

“Huh? Dunno what you mean.” Eloquence, thy name is Harry. 

Autumn had finally shown up, making the evening cool, but sweat still beaded Malfoy’s forehead. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. “Look, they just did it again!”

I looked at Ron and Hermione who both jumped when our gazes met. “Umm, they’re parents now. Makes you weird, I think.”

“Merlin, you are the worst liar I ever met.” Malfoy tossed some leftover tulle at me. I caught it and smiled at him innocently. He rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll just go ask them, shall I?”

He was already halfway across the lawn before I caught up to him, grabbed his arm and twirled him around. We lost our balance. The wind left my lungs as we landed on the grass in a heap of body parts. Malfoy smiled down at me. “That was telling, Potter. Now I know it’s something good.”

“I told them about you kissing me,” I whispered. 

His eyes lit up. “You kissed me back.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

Before I could say anything else, we were surrounded by Weasleys of all ages asking us if we were okay. George helped Malfoy up, joking that he’d stuck the landing. Hermione helped me to my feet, brushing the grass off my back. “What the frick was that about?”

I shrugged. “I wish you’d say fuck.” That earned me another death glare. 

* * *

Halfway through the party, Ginny and Luna got up and made a toast to everyone, saying their thanks for the gifts and for showing up at such short notice. Once they finished, the music started and everyone followed them to the centre of the tent to dance. 

I stayed at my table eating the last bite of my cake. Malfoy had gone off to catch up with Dean and Seamus and seemed to be in the middle of an animated story. He waved his hands around and laughed. Dean slapped him on the shoulder, laughing along with him, so obviously whatever he’d said had been funny. 

“Can I join the pity party?” George asked, taking a seat. He put another piece of cake down in front of me. 

My nose scrunched up, but I took a bite of the cake. “Do I really look that pitiful?”

George made a so-so gesture with his hand. “Only to everyone here…maybe except Malfoy. He seems oblivious. So you kissed, huh?”

I thumped my head on the table, nearly missing the cake. “Does everyone know?”

“Rose is getting very verbal, you know? She told me that Uncle Harry kissed Malfoy. Though she called him ‘malboy,’ but I got the message all the same.”

I thumped my head on the table one more time.

“Yeesh, okay, so you’ve got it bad.” George laughed. “What are you doing about it?” My silence told him all he needed to know. “So, nothing. Smart. That way you never have to go through the trouble of being in a relationship with him.”

“It doesn't matter if I like him or whatever. He doesn’t do the whole commitment thing. I mean, you’ve seen the papers. He’s with a new bloke every month. He wouldn’t want a relationship.”

George sighed. “Have you given him the chance to make that choice for himself?”

My head hurt, but I thumped it on the table one more time for good measure. “No.”

“Atta boy,” George patted my shoulder, then took the piece of cake he’d brought for me and ate it. So much for my pity-party. 

* * *

Three pieces of cake later, I headed inside to help Molly straighten up for something to do other than watch Malfoy dancing with Luna and Ginny, who surprisingly didn’t even seem the least bit interested in hexing him once she saw the gift he’d gotten them. George was right. I never gave Malfoy a chance to prove me wrong. I never even told him I liked him. After the third slice of cake, I’d resolved to do just that but chickened out before my feet carried me to the dance floor. 

The kitchen was the one room in the Burrow that never seemed to change. The rest of the house got stretched and adjusted whenever they needed a new room, but the kitchen was the heart of this home and everything in it felt permanent, from the clock on the wall to the charmed broom that always seemed to sweep the same spot. It smelled like apples and cinnamon, coffee and tea, and about a million other things; all of which made me feel like I was home. 

“Hey, need any help?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Molly turned to see me and smiled. She always excused herself early from the parties and could be found in the kitchen wrapping up take-home plates and drinking a glass of brandy; her very own ritual. She had a half-full glass in one hand and a dishtowel in the other. “Harry, my boy, you should be out there,” she waved to the backyard. “Go, enjoy yourself. I don’t mind doing the clearing up.”

“I know.” I sighed. “Can I at least keep you company?”

She smiled at me with motherly concern apparent in the soft wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Of course, dear.” She took out another glass and poured me some brandy, setting it out at the table with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. There wasn’t a problem sweets couldn’t fix in Molly Weasley’s book. And, I had to admit, I agreed. 

One bite of the cookie and the butterflies in my stomach seemed to quiet down. Did I even want to tell Malfoy I liked him? Could we ever really work in a relationship? Shouldn’t I know the answers to those questions before I opened my big mouth? I nibbled at the cookie while I thought. The soft hum of cleaning around me was like a lullaby. I felt comfortable, at home, so I laid my head down on the kitchen table and closed my eyes, listening to Molly bustle around the kitchen. 

When I came to, the only noise in the kitchen came from the broom that never seemed to stop sweeping. My mouth still tasted like chocolate. I knew I must have been asleep because there was drool on the table. Attractive, Harry. I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. 

The brandy Molly had poured me sat untouched, so I took a sip and a shiver went down my back. Brandy was way too sweet for me. I chased the taste away with a cookie. Thank Merlin for a good metabolism because, at the rate I was going, these cookies would be the death of my (mostly non-existent) love life. I guess that could be fine with me, as long as Molly taught me how to make them so I always had a supply in hand. Spinsters should know a good cookie recipe. 

A warm hand slid across my shoulders, startling me enough that I sucked in a deep breath. I knew it was Malfoy from the way my whole body went hard. “There you are.”

I turned to see him, face flushed and hair mussed from dancing. The sight of him in the Burrow’s kitchen, looking like he belonged among the permanence made my breath hitch. Okay, so, checklist: I did like Malfoy, okay, _loved_ him, and I needed to tell him as much before I drove myself insane or gained fifty pounds in one night eating all of the leftover cookies. 

“Can we talk?” I pulled out the chair next to mine, trying my best to keep a lighthearted smile on my face. 

Malfoy narrowed his eyes as he sat. “Sure…what did you want to talk about?”

My mouth went dry, so I took another sip of the brandy and hated it just as much as the last sip. Sweet things should be reserved for tea and cookies, not alcohol. Alcohol should taste like fire. I finished the glass anyway. 

“Okay, you’ve really got my curiosity now,” he said, plucking the glass out of my hand and sliding it down the wooden table out of reach. “What’s going on?”

I gave him a palms-up gesture. “What is this?”

“This is a party.” He looked over his shoulder at the doorway. The noise of laughter and music carried in from the open windows. When he looked back at me, there was concern written all over his face. “Are you okay?”

Now or never. “No, I mean _this_.” I pointed at him and then back at myself. “I mean, you kissed me.”

A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth. “And you kissed me back if you’ll remember correctly.”

I felt my face burn. “We _fucked_.”

Silence. Malfoy leant forward, resting his arms on the table. He took a deep breath, reached for the plate of cookies and took the last one. He broke off a small bite and popped it in his mouth. A rush of heat filled me as I watched him slowly chew and swallow. He turned and straightened, locked gazes with me, and really looked at me for the first time all night. It felt like sitting under the sun in summer. Like his eyes were on all of me at once, warming even the spaces between my fingers and toes. 

“I remember,” he finally said. 

“And you never Floo-called, or wrote, or said anything about it for that matter.”

He took another bite of cookie and took his time eating it. Chocolate stained his lips and I fought the urge to lick it off. This Malfoy was every bit as sexy as the one I’d slept with, maybe even more so, because this Malfoy was all control. “Neither did you.”

When in doubt, rant. “You were the seducer. You seduced me. The seducer does the calling. Everyone knows that. It’s like the rule or something.”

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. “I seduced you?” 

I stood my ground. “Umm, you were always asking me about my Patronus.”

“Because I wanted to learn how to cast one.”

“But that night… _you_ kissed me.”

He sighed. “You were flirting with me the whole time. You kept touching my arms and wrapping yourself around me to show me how to do the wrist motion.”

“Because that’s the easiest way to show someone how to…hell, that’s how I taught Ron and he didn’t kiss me.” I couldn’t believe this. He thought I’d seduced him? 

Malfoy leant forward. “His loss.”

“Be serious.” I snapped. My pulse slammed at the back of my throat. “I, uh, that was my first time.”

“With a man?” 

I took a steadying breath. “At all.”

“But you and Ginevra dated,” he said as if that meant we _must_ have had sex. 

“I know, but we never…we did stuff, but never that. You were my first, and you never called and then you fucked every man in Europe and _you never called_. Then you had to come back to Hogwarts and remind me of it and kiss me and now I can’t…I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Is this…what would you have said if I’d asked you to this as a date?”

A grin surfaced, tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Did you want it to be a date?”

“Did you?” I could feel my heartbeat in my toes. “Did you ever want anything more from me or was it just sex then and fun now?”

He licked his lips, wiping away the leftover chocolate. “I wanted more…I always wanted more from you, Harry.”

“You had a funny way of showing it.”

“I wasn’t always the best with communication or emotions.” He gave a half-smile, and Merlin it was sexier than his stupid smirk. 

“Well, you’re doing okay right now,” I observed.

“Thanks.” Relief suffused his features. “Did you want more?” He paused, taking a steadying breath. “ _Do_ you want more?”

Of course, you dolt! Why else would we be talking about this, my brain shouted. I watched him for a moment, taking in the splendour that was Draco Malfoy, open and vulnerable. I knew I’d been quiet too long when Malfoy cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I do that a lot.” I smiled. “Go off into my mind.”

“Does that mean…” he trailed off, sounding nervous.

“Yes. I want more. Do you?”

“Good.”

He leant forward as if to kiss me, but I put my finger to his lips. “Can I say just one more thing?”

“If you must,” he said, mumbling from behind my finger.

“If you want more from me, that means a commitment, a real one—not some month-long triste. You do realise that, right?”

“Yes,” he said, laughing.

“You don’t seem too great at committing.” I dropped my finger from his lips. “What makes you think you can do it now?”

His expression softened. “None of them were you.”

I raised a brow. Well, that was not the answer I’d been expecting. If I thought my pulse had been erratic before, it was a wreck after hearing those words coming from his sinfully beautiful mouth. “I thought, well, I guess I thought that I was just one of the many.”

“Never.” He took my hand in his, bringing it to his chest. I felt his heart pounding almost as erratically as mine. “You were like a song stuck in my head all these years. No one ever measured up or made me feel the way you did. I couldn’t shake you.” His smile widened, moving to his smoke-gray eyes. “I thought you would never want to date me. I guess I assumed you were ashamed since you never said anything and no one seemed to know about it, so I forgot about it. Or tried to at least. Then I saw you in the Owlery.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shifted in his chair to face me. “Why didn’t you?”

“Fair enough,” I agreed, “I’m saying something now.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think I love you.”

His eyes flicked to my mouth. “I think I love you, too.” He closed the space between us and kissed me. He tasted like chocolate and champagne. 

My mind knew I shouldn’t be kissing Malfoy like this in the kitchen where anyone could walk in, but my body didn’t care. And this time, I let my body take the reins. Draco Malfoy knew how to kiss. Merlin, his lips were like a rhapsody, an epic poem, the eighth wonder of the world. It started out tender, slow, but quickly moved to hot and deep. 

He pulled back with laughter on his lips, but I yanked him back to me, crashing our mouths together. The kiss turned frantic from there. Years of yearning, of want, poured out of me and into him. I was on my feet and pulling him up with me. Our bodies flush. My hands snaked around his back, grasping at the fabric of his shirt. His hands cupping my face. 

I slipped my knee between his legs and pushed him back until he hit the table. The brandy glass rattled and then fell to the ground with a crash. We laughed into each other's mouths, too swept up to care. My fingers made quick work of his shirt, until my hands were splayed out across his warm skin. 

“ _Ahem_ , I suppose you’ll be sharing a room tonight?” Arthur Weasley’s voice came from the doorway. 

Malfoy and I froze. Our lips parted slowly. I could feel his heart pounding against my palms. His hands were still tangled in my hair. We looked at each other and then at the doorway where every single Weasley stood fanned out around Arthur, all looking at Malfoy sitting on their table with me between his legs.

“Is the party over already?” I asked. 

George barked out a full belly laugh. “Oh man, Angelina is going to be so mad she missed this.”

Hermione had Hugo on one hip. He was sleeping soundly, drooling on her shirt. Ron had Rose. Her chubby cherubic face tucked into the crook of his neck. Neither of them said anything, but I read their expressions. Ron seemed more concerned about the kitchen table than anything. I could almost hear him say ‘I eat there.’ Hermione looked like she was close to laughing, the thought of waking her son the only thing that kept her from doing so.

Bill had a tray of empty plates and a blank face, Fleur held Victoire. Molly, Ginny, and Luna all had a hand clapped over their mouths; Molly looked shocked, but Ginny and Luna looked excited. 

Charlie was the only one that looked casual with a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Bout time, boys. Good show.” And then he tucked Percy under his shoulder and turned out of the room. Percy looked over his shoulder at us and I heard him whisper, “But we eat there.”

* * *

We decided to spend the night elsewhere since, as appealing as the thought of letting Malfoy ravage me under the Weasley’s roof was, I wanted him all to myself. I took Malfoy through the Floo and back to my room at Hogwarts. The second we were through the fireplace, he tossed his overnight bag on the ground and tore mine out of my hand. We made fast work of each other’s clothes and tumbled into the bed. 

“Are you going to call me this time?” I was straddling Malfoy, grinding against him when I spoke, his hands trailing down my back. 

“Depends,” He told me, nipping my bottom lip. “Is it going to take another decade to get you into bed?”

“Malfoy, you can have me in bed every night as long as you call.” I kissed him lightly on his lips and then moved to trace kisses along his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. I moved lower, stopping at his nipple to lick and bite. I kissed all the way down the length of his body, savouring the taste of him, enjoying the feel of his hard muscle under my touch. I worked him until he was a wreck, begging for it, and then I was inside him. 

We lay together, tangled in my sheets. Finally, he ran a shaking hand down my chest. “Should I even bother pointing out we could have been doing this the whole time if we weren’t such morons?”

“No way.”

He laughed. “So, should I get up and call you now, or?”

I rolled him over so he was flush against me. “You get out of this bed before I’m finished with you and there’ll be trouble.”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh, is that so?”

“You didn’t think I waited that long just to fuck you once and then go to sleep. I’ve got plans for you, Draco Malfoy, and they are going to take all night.” I licked a line up his neck. “You can call me in the morning.”

* * *

“Where in the world…?” I opened and closed all the drawers of my desk. Class was about to start, students were trickling in and taking their seats, and I couldn’t find my damn wand. Merlin, where did I leave it? 

“Hi, professor,” Marcy said, coming up to the front of the classroom and looking at me expectantly. “I have something for you.” She held out a folded bit of parchment. 

I took it, ignoring the wide smile on her face. “Thank you, please take your seat.” She waggled her eyebrows at me and skipped off. I unfolded the note to see Malfoy’s nearly indiscernible script. It read: _You left your wand. Meet me in the hall_. Well, that explained Marcy’s smile and where I’d left the damned thing. 

“Start reading the introduction to the chapter,” I told the class, tucking the note in my robes pocket and feeling like a love-struck teen. “I need to go…speak with Healer Malfoy.”

Most of the students groaned and opened their books, but Marcy and Abdul grinned at me as I walked past them and out of the classroom. By the time lunch hit, the rumour-mill would be working overtime to tell everyone that Healer Malfoy and Professor Potter we’re passing notes. The thought might have given me pause a month ago, but now all it did was delight me. 

I found Malfoy leaning against the corridor wall in his bright teal Healer robes, twirling my wand between his fingers. “Professor Potter, I believe you left this behind when you rushed out in order to make it to class on time.” He licked his lips slowly and my throat went dry. “You must have been distracted.” 

Distracted didn’t cover it. I’d tried leaving his office on three separate occasions and each time he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me until I was sure my insides were on fire.

“How kind of you to bring it over, Healer Malfoy.”

I reached for my wand, but he yanked it back, his eyes glinting with a mischief I was starting to associate with desire. Heat pooled in my stomach. Merlin, he made me wild.

“Uh-uh, not so fast. I believe a proper thanks is in order. I _did_ take time out of my busy morning to walk all the way over here and hand-deliver your wand, which I am sure you desperately need in order to be an effective professor.”

I looked over my shoulder. The corridor was empty, but there was no way to be sure a stray student, professor, or — Merlin forbid — Filch wouldn’t walk by. Thankfully, I knew all the secrets of Hogwarts after years of using the Marauder's Map. Not bothering to respond, I grabbed Malfoy by the hand and pulled him towards a tapestry.

“Potter?” Malfoy asked, looking up at the woven depiction of a Dwarven battle and then back at me. 

I winked at him, pulling the tapestry back enough that I could slip through. I heard him laugh before following me inside. It was dark, but not to the point that we couldn’t make each other’s shapes out. I pulled him in by the front of his robes, crashing our lips together. His body melted into mine. Hunger took over, and in a moment, we were kissing with an exquisite fierceness. I grew hard almost instantaneously.

I pulled back, breathing raggedly. “Thank you, Draco.” I leant in one more time, kissing him chastely. My erection would be annoying, but bless billowing robes. I adjusted myself and then pushed the tapestry back, leaving Malfoy in the alcove. I heard him choke out, “You’re welcome” and smiled to myself as I made my way back to class. 

Maybe some old habits weren’t so bad, after all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Magic anthology](/series/1900732), a series of Drarry fics inspired by Hogwarts’ seven core subjects.
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/2Qx1l1Y); seven songs for each of the seven fics included in the collection.


End file.
